


The Weight of Lies

by lionessvalenti



Category: White Collar
Genre: Community: WCPairings, F/M, Infidelity, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 15:13:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lonely, Neal and Elizabeth start down a dark path together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weight of Lies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pikasafire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikasafire/gifts).



> Title comes from The Avett Brothers' song of the same name.

The room was silent except for Elizabeth's breathing and a moth banging on the outside of the window, trying to get inside. Neal knew she was awake next to him, but they didn't speak. It all happened so fast, but they could have stopped themselves.

Neal turned his head and Elizabeth blinked at him through the darkness. "We can't tell Peter," he said. "Ever."

Elizabeth closed her eyes, but then slowly, she nodded.

* * *

Neal tried to put it out of his mind, but it was difficult in the office. There was nothing going on and every time his eyes wandered, they seemed to find Peter's empty office. His empty office to go with his empty home.

Now all he could think about was Elizabeth's mouth hot against his own. Her breast in his hand. The curve of her hip and the subtle swell of her stomach.

"Neal."

He looked up and Jones was standing there. Neal smiled. "What can I do for you?"

"You stayed the night at the Burke's," Jones said. His tone wasn't accusatory. Why would it be? Elizabeth would never cheat on Peter. That's what everyone, with good reason, thought. He was just doing his job, keeping tabs on Neal, while Peter was away. "What's going on?"

"She saw Peter yesterday," Neal replied, and that was the truth. It was a condition of his parole that he couldn't visit prisoners, even if that prisoner was his partner. "She's just keeping me updated. I drank too much and fell asleep on the couch."

That was mostly the truth. It was almost the truth.

The truth went like this:

Elizabeth handed Neal a glass of wine and sat down next to him on the sofa. She'd just opened another bottle. They had covered the basics of her visit to see Peter, but now, with a little alcoholic lubrication, things were getting more honest. "He seemed tired," she said. "He's only been in there for a few weeks, but... he was just so drawn."

"He'll be out of there soon," Neal replied, taking a sip of wine. There was a bit of cork in floating in it, but he didn't say anything. Instead he set his glass on the coffee table.

"Do you have any leads?"

"No," he admitted. And he'd sounded so confident just moments before. "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry." Elizabeth set her own glass aside. "I know this is difficult for you, Neal. It's one thing to track down criminals, but this one's your father."

"I want to find James," he replied. "That's all I'm doing. He's never been a father to me. He's going to get what he deserves."

She smiled faintly, a pleased, tipsy smile. She took his hand in hers. "I know you're looking for him, sweetheart. And I know you'll find him."

Neal smiled, too, and maybe he was drunker than he had thought. This was only the second bottle, right? He couldn't be sure. It suddenly felt late, though it was only half past ten. "How are you?" he asked. He wondered how many people a day asked her that.

"I'm fine," she replied too quickly. A lot of people were asking her. She lowered her head and a tear dripped onto her cheek. "I had no idea how lonely this would be. When you get past the shock of it all, there's just an empty house, and nothing I can do. I try to keep my head up, but... I'm so worn down. How am I supposed to keep doing this?"

"Elizabeth," Neal mumbled, leaning in closer to her until their foreheads were almost touching. 

Her blue eyes flashed up to his. "What if he never gets out?"

"He will." Neal brushed his thumb along her cheek. "I'm going to make sure he will. I promise," he said, but they both knew that wasn't a promise he knew he could keep. But he could try.

Elizabeth lifted her chin and her mouth pressed to Neal's. She clearly wasn't thinking, and neither was Neal, because he kissed her back. His hands wandered down her body, over her soft sweater, and then under it. She pulled at his tie and the buttons on his shirt.

It all happened so fast, but they could have stopped themselves.

And in the quiet room, in a bed where he didn't belong, Neal said, "We can't tell Peter. Ever."

* * *

Neal sat at the end of the table in the Burke's dining room, with Elizabeth just to his left. He had a cup of coffee in his hands. The heat against his skin kept him grounded.

"I guess we should talk about it," Elizabeth said slowly. She lowered her eyes to her teacup.

Neal, who was rarely at a loss for words, nodded. He took a long drink of his coffee to kill the time and said, "We were drunk. It's not an excuse. It's just a fact. But after everything Peter's done for me... it was a mistake."

Elizabeth looked up at him. "But it was easy, wasn't it?"

Neal cracked half a smile. "The wrong thing usually is."

"You would know," she replied, and they both chuckled. She considered him carefully, her lips pursed together. "But it was nice."

"Nice," Neal repeated. "Just nice?" He knew those weren't the words he should be saying, but they were the ones he said. They shouldn't be talking about this, not this way, but she started it.

"It's a little fuzzy," Elizabeth said, crinkling her nose and smiling.

And in that moment, Neal realized she wanted to do it again. He'd been thinking about it, about her, since he'd walked out that door two days ago, but he didn't actually think she would want to do it again. A mistake. This was _Peter's wife_.

He dropped his mug on the table and stumbled backwards, trying to stand and walk away at the same time. It was like he was fifteen all of a sudden and his legs were too long for the rest of his body. The chair fell over and Neal almost fell with it, but he grabbed the table and stayed on his feet.

Elizabeth stood, too. She moved close to him, and reached for him, but didn't push it when he took a step back. "Neal, it's okay." Her voice was soothing, like she was speaking to a spooked horse.

"No, it's not."

"No," she agreed, "it's not. It's a stupid, selfish thing to do, and under normal circumstances I'd never do this, but I had no idea what this would feel like. Peter's in prison and I'm so afraid he'll never he'll get out--"

"That's not going to happen," Neal said. "I'll get Peter out of there."

"I know you will, and I know it's going to work out fine, but for a moment, I got to forget about all of it. And I didn't even know how much I needed that. And maybe you needed it, too. I don't even care how it happened. That might be awful, but it's the truth."

Neal swallowed. He had lost Sara and Peter in the same day. He could get one of them back, and he was trying, but it had been undeniably lonely. Or maybe he was just making excuses. In fact, he knew he was making excuses, but that wasn't going to stop him.

He grabbed her around the wrist and pulled her close. His hands rested on her hips, but he couldn't quite keep his fingers still, stroking at the fabric of her dress. His mouth was inches from hers, and he mumbled, "We can't tell anyone about this."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I know."

"Good." Neal didn't waste anymore time. He kissed her, and it was better than the last time. her hands were in his hair, and he pushed her up against the end of the table. She gasped, her fingernails digging into the back of his neck. She shifted her weight onto the table and lay back.

Neal's hands slid up the inside of Elizabeth's bare thighs until he found her underwear. He hooked his fingers under the elastic band and pulled them down.

"Oh, god," Elizabeth muttered, slinging an arm over her face The bright sunshine streamed in through the windows and right into her eyes.

Neal fumbled with the button and zipper on his trousers before he managed to get them open. There wasn't any thinking. He thrust into her and the rest of his body sagged over her with relief. The last two days of obsessing and hoping no one noticed had all been leading up to this.

Elizabeth sat up halfway, her arm flying away from her face and knocking over Neal's mug. It landed on the floor in one piece, but coffee spilled all over the floor. "Shit," she said, peering over the side of the table, but Neal just laughed and kissed her.

"I'll clean it up later," he said, his lips still pressed to hers.

"I wasn't going to stop," she replied and grabbed him around the backside. "Keep going."

So Neal kept going. He couldn't stop now.

* * *

Guilt was an emotion Neal wasn't used to. He never felt guilty for the things he did, except this. However, he couldn't deny the pleasure, and the release. Elizabeth was right. When they were together, he could forget about everything else.

It was a drug and they were addicts.

So when he received a text from Elizabeth telling him to come over after work, he felt a mixture of anticipation twisted with guilt somewhere deep in his gut. It was a nasty combination and he couldn't focus on his work. Finally, six rolled around and Neal excused himself, even though Jones and Diana were still working.

"Elizabeth?" Neal called as he walked into the Burke's house. He always called her by her full name. He called her "El" once, and they both stared at each other for a few seconds and they never spoke of it. It wasn't like Peter was the only one who called her that, but there was something distinctly _Peter_ about it. And Neal had no right calling her by Peter's names.

"In here," she replied from the kitchen. Neal followed the sound of her voice and she was sitting at the island with a glass of red wine. The bottle on the counter was half empty.

"What's going on?" he asked. He didn't sit, but leaned on the island, resting his weight onto his elbows, looking up at her.

"I talked the lawyer today," she said, and she sniffed loudly, like she'd been crying. "It doesn't look good. I mean, if James doesn't surface and he doesn't confess... there's not much in Peter's favor."

"I don't believe that," Neal replied. "Peter has his reputation."

Elizabeth shook her head. "His reputation doesn't mean much these days." She didn't quite meet Neal's gaze, and he nodded slowly.

"Because of the things he's done for me."

"It's just different now than it would have been a few years ago, that's all." She took a sip of her wine. "Don't you have any new leads on James?"

Neal wanted to lie to her, but he'd been lying to himself so much lately, he couldn't do it. "No, we don't."

Elizabeth set her glass down with a slam. Wine sloshed up the side of the glass and some splattered onto the counter. "Why _not_?"

"He knows what he's doing," Neal replied. "He knows how to vanish." He knew she knew how this worked. She had years of seeing Peter's frustration over disappearing suspects, so she knew it wasn't easy, but this was different. This was personal.

"Are you even looking?" Her voice now had a dark edge to it, unlike anything he'd ever heard.

Neal stood up straight. "That's _all_ I'm doing!"

"No, it's _not_. It's got to be a lot easier to let Peter rot in prison while you're fucking his wife. Not to mention protecting your father in the process."

"No," Neal said, shaking his head. "You know that's not what this is. My loyalty is _always_ with Peter."

Elizabeth got to her feet, and she swayed on the spot. "Then what are you doing here?"

"I'm here because you asked me to come." He took a step back, away from her. "I know you're frustrated, but Peter has done more for me than James ever did. I stand with Peter. It doesn't matter what I'm doing with his wife. Come talk to me when you remember that."

And he walked out of the house. He walked halfway to Brooklyn Heights before he realized he should get a cab.

When he finally got back to his apartment, he yanked off his tie and grabbed his own bottle of wine. He could seethe if he wanted to, but what he needed to do was unwind. It wasn't that he didn't understand why Elizabeth felt that way, but he didn't have to like it.

Neal stretched out on the couch, only lifting his head to sip from his glass. He dozed off and only woke up when there was a knock at the door. He got to his feet and answered, to find Elizabeth standing there.

"May I come in?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied, standing to the side. He closed the door after her and asked, "Are you here to yell at me some more?" He leaned against the dining table, half-sitting on the corner.

"I'm here to apologize," she said. "I got scared and I took it out on you. You didn't deserve that. Everything we're doing is just as much my fault. I'm sorry."

Neal reached out and took her hand. She stepped closer to him and she smiled. "Apology accepted. Would it be easier if we stopped? We can stop right now."

Elizabeth draped her arms over his shoulders and shook her head. "I can't stop now, not when I need you the most." She leaned in and kissed him softly.

He groaned and wrapped his arms around her. He knew this was going to be over when everything was set right. But as long as they were wrong, they were going to be completely wrong.

* * *

The air conditioning was on full blast in the office, and even though it was nearly a hundred degrees outside, Neal was feeling chilly. He was walking back from the bathroom when Jones motioned for him to come over to a secluded corner of the office.

"What's going on?" Neal asked.

Jones leaned in close and said in a low voice, "James was just detained in South Carolina. He confessed to the murder. We've already sent a car for Peter. They're going to take him home."

Neal couldn't make his mouth work right away, so he nodded. "That's good," he said finally. "Has anyone told Elizabeth?"

"I already called her," Jones replied. He considered Neal for a long moment and added, "You shouldn't go over there."

"What?"

"I've been keeping an eye on your anklet over the last few months. I don't know what you've been doing there, and it might not be good, but it's none of my business. But Peter's coming back."

Neal nodded. "Well, there's still work to do here."

Jones smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. He clapped Neal on the shoulder. "That's right."

Neal walked back to his desk in somber silence. He knew he should be glad. This was what he wanted, but he couldn't stop thinking about what he was losing in the process.

* * *

Months later, Peter still didn't quite look like himself. He'd lost a lot of weight in prison, and hadn't put it all back on, even as Christmas rolled around. It was a lingering reminder that things had changed.

Neal had been invited to the Burke's for Christmas Eve dinner. It was casual, the food set up buffet style in the kitchen while "Silent Night" on the saxophone played from the living room. There were people at the dining table, but just as many sitting on the sofa with their plates in their laps.

Neal was loading his plate up with seconds when Elizabeth joined him in the kitchen, her plate in hand. Their eyes met and she smiled. Neal smiled back, and then looked away.

Sometimes it was like it had never happened, but Neal would never forget.


End file.
